


That Bloody Trinket Cabinet!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Erotica, Humor, Kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:00:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Enthusiasm, curiosity - no one could object to that, surely, not even Peter Newkirk.  But then, when you're talking about Andrew J Carter, it was BOUNDLESS enthusiasm, NEVERENDING curiosity, and that made a difference.  Andrew knew that; he'd been told that a thousand times, probably (at least eight hundred fifty of those times by that same Peter Newkirk - sometimes in a very, very loud voice).  But still, he thought it was a really great idea, and he was sure he'd be able to talk Peter into the whole notion.  Well, he could usually talk Peter into just about anything, much to the Englishman's supposed annoyance.





	That Bloody Trinket Cabinet!

**Author's Note:**

> Blatantly, unabashedly erotic, a little kinky, hopefully amusing in spots. It's not particularly mild, so if you prefer not to read such, then please don't.
> 
> Subtitle - 'Andrew - A Little Dom'll Do Ya!' Must be sung to the tune of the old Brylcream commercial ('Brylcream, A Little Dab'll Do Ya!')

Prologue:  
Andrew was just a little bored. Peter and Caeide were down at the Vincent booth in the village for Market Day, and Maude was in the stillroom, with Marisol checking over the linens. He'd finished the chores he needed to get done, and was now entertaining himself looking through the Trinket Cabinet, as Caeide called it. He'd figured out what most of those things were meant to be used for, but there were a few that still baffled him, and both Peter and Caeide didn't know either, or at least that's what they said. He wasn't too sure they weren't fibbing, though. 

When he'd brought that one item out to show them, for example, Peter almost choked on his drink, and though Andrew thought Caeide was maybe going to explain, though she seemed kinda taken aback herself, she stopped abruptly, and only said, "I really couldn't say, Andrew". Andrew had glanced around, suspicious, to catch Peter shaking his head side to side, waving his hands frantically in front of him. Later, he'd found an illustration of the 'trinket' in one of the big books in the library, and thought about going to them to explain the purpose of what he now knew was sometimes called a 'double-horn', but somehow he never got around to it. Anyway, he had a feeling he wouldn't be telling them anything they hadn't already known, or at least guessed. Well, yeah, he guessed it was kinda obvious, when you thought about it, but he'd never considered the possibility before. Huh, just goes to show!

Now, he noticed that, when he pulled out that top drawer of the cabinet, the whole thing moved a little. Curious (of course), he tugged, and to his amazement the whole cabinet pulled out from the wall. Even more interesting, the whole thing was on little wheels and when he spun it around, well! An hour later, he got up from his cross-legged position on the floor, putting his finds into a small box, and pushed the cabinet back to its original position. 

He sighed with pleasure, a huge grin on his face. This was going to be so interesting, so much fun. Of course, talking Peter into it was going to take some doing, but it would be worth it, he was sure. And then, there was Caeide to consider. That elfin grin now took up his whole face. Boy, oh boy!

 

***Just Sitting There, Minding My Own Bloody Business!****  
Peter was seated at the kitchen table, minding his own business, as he disgustedly told himself later, drinking his coffee, enjoying a morning cigarette when Andrew bounced into the room. 

"Good morning, Peter," he sang out cheerfully. "Isn't it a beautiful day!" 

Peter looked up in amusement; the sun was not quite up yet. "'Aven't 'ad a chance to take much of a look out yet, Andrew, but I'll take your word for it." 

The younger man looked around, "where is everyone?" 

"Caeide is dealing with the feathery ones while Maude and Marisol 'ed on down to Cardiff for that shopping spree they've been promising themselves; caught the early train, they did," that early train being about 3 in the morning, but the only one available. "Big stock's already taken care of, for the most part."

"Thought they weren't going to leave til tomorrow," Andrew frowned, "otherwise I'd have been down to take care of that for her, and driven them to the station too!" 

"Well, the word came there's to be a quilting exhibition on the morrow, and they wanted to get down there and sign up to put that latest masterpiece of theirs up on the wall with everyone elses. Call came through just at bedtime last night; you'd already 'eaded in after that long day up at the sheep pens, shaking the rafters quite nicely, and no one wanted to disturb you," Peter explained. 

Andrew gave a deep shudder, "Wow, was that a day or was that a day!! That big ram does NOT like to have his ladies messed with, does he? I ended up flat on my face half a dozen times! And, Peter, I do NOT snore!" 

Peter snickered down into his cup, "No, Andrew, of course not!"

Andrew puttered around, pouring himself some coffee, and with a quiet air of amused satisfaction, sat a square box in the center of the table. "I was going to set this aside til tomorrow when they'd be gone, but looks like today would be a perfect day after all," he grinned enthusiastically at Peter. 

Peter looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup with some trepidation. That particular grin had led to trouble on more than one occasion, and Peter had learned to be wary. He saw Andrew take a look at the calendar on the wall behind him, with his grin getting bigger, and slowly, apprehensively, turned to look, take proper note and groan. How had he lost track of the days like that! "Andrew, what are you thinking?" 

"Well, I was going to ask you if we could move my day to tomorrow, but now, it looks like today could be just perfect, and it's the third Friday, so I don't have to," he chimed. 

In order to keep Andrew from having to ask for 'special days' when he was 'in charge' of their love life, they'd decided that the first and third Friday of each month would be that special day. At first, it was because it seemed a little demeaning for him to have to ask all the time, at least in Caeide's opinion; then, it was because, after a little experience with Andrew and his notions, it was easier on Peter's nerves if he had a schedule so that he could sort of, well, prepare himself. And frankly, it set a limit on those days, because twice a month of Andrew's wild exuberance and overwhelming curiosity about new things was all Peter thought he could deal with. 

Not that they didn't share a bed, and other various surfaces, at other times; no, of course not, it's just that while Peter had never considered himself 'conservative', it turns out that in this company, that's certainly what he'd turned out to be, at least by comparison. He shook his head in wonderment, as always, at the thought. ("The guys at old Stalag 13 wouldn't recognize this Andrew J Carter!"} 

Caeide had never gotten around to explaining the Five Decanters to Andrew, and Peter had thought that best. The Decanters were intended to allow the users to be more open to variety and experimentation, and anyone more 'open' than Andrew, well, they just decided it might be best.

"And just what do you 'ave in that box, if I might be so bold as to inquire?" he asked.

Andrew just blinked those big brown eyes at him and said, "Oh, no, finish your coffee, it'll wait til then," but with a really eager giggle, while he wriggled in his chair like an excited toddler. 

Peter thought about it, and decided he might as well; with Andrew, no telling what was coming and he might need the energy. He kept his eyes lowered to his cup and his cigarette, making both last as long as he could. Eventually, though, he could feel Andrew's eyes on him, and he couldn't hold the cigarette anymore without burning his fingers, and the cup was as dry as it could get. He stubbed out the cigarette, looked up and sighed, "Alright, Andrew, let's hear it."

"Well, I was looking through the Trinket Cabinet," and looked up in surprise at the pained groan from Peter, who just shook his head and used his fingers in a rolling motion to tell Andrew to continue. 

"Well, I was looking at everything, and remembering how much fun some of those things were, and wondering what some of the others were meant for, when I noticed that the drawers didn't seem deep enough for the cabinet, so I got to looking, and it rolls away from the wall, and Peter, it sits in this little alcove cut in the wall, and when you roll it out, and turn it around, there's a little secret latch and when you press it, the whole other side opens!" he said gleefully. 

{"Cor, just what we need, more joy from that bloody Cabinet!"} The Trinket Cabinet held various exotic, or you could say, erotic 'toys' collected down through the years by the various previous residents at Haven. Sometimes, from the number of items and the variety, Peter wondered how anyone had ever gotten any work done. 

"Another side, Andrew?" he asked with resignation, "dare I hope it contains engravings or a coin collection, or a bag of vicious scorpions, something 'armless like that?" 

A wide grin from Andrew put paid to that hope, "Gosh, no, it has all sorts of neat stuff, and even a little instruction book, with drawings!" 

{"Well, at least the bloody things come with instructions; guess it's better than 'im guessing; 'ate to think 'e'd be using any of 'em wrong,"} Peter thought to himself, absently, then stiffened as he realized the implications - {"instruction book?? The other side didn't 'ave no instructions and we couldn't figure out what the 'alf of them are for, but someone thought this lot so much more complicated as to need instructions?!"}

"Andrew, it's half past five in the morning; why are we discussing this now, instead of at tea time or after supper?" thinking he'd have been better off without a whole day of anticipating whatever madness Andrew had come up with this time. 

"Well, this," he pointed at the box, "this is meant to be started early in the day." 

Peter had a really bad feeling about this, "Andrew, we've got work to do today; I'm up at the big orchard this morning gathering those apples for cider, and looking over the far fields this afternoon to see if they're dry enough for planting, and maybe taking a run up to the old Reverend to see if 'e's lacking for anything." 

"Well, of course, you're meant to continue with whatever was already on your schedule; that's the whole point, well," with a little frown, "not the whole point, but a good part of it." 

"Andrew, what's in the bleeding box?!" Peter asked, just a little impatiently. 

Andrew gave another of those disturbing little grins, and with a voila motion, took the lid off and Peter stood up and leaned over to take a look inside. He stood there, staring down, blinked several times, sat back down, licked his lips, pursed his mouth, frowned thoughtfully, got back up and looked again, 

"WHAT the bleeding 'ell is that, Andrew?!" he managed to get out, with an appalled look at his young friend. Andrew giggled, and drew it up out of the box, a mass of chain and thin leather straps and hooks and a tiny padlock, with sort of a holster of some kind dangling from it. Peter reached out to touch the holster with two fingers, setting it swinging, and the shape all of a sudden made sense to him, and he recoiled, snatching his hand back. His jaw dropped as he stared wordlessly at Andrew. 

"Well, it's kinda hard to see from it being all coiled up like this, but, see, here's the diagram!," and he pulled out a little book, with thin parchment pages, and on the page he held open, a picture of an obviously well-endowed male figure wearing this, this contraption! 

"Andrew, no," he said sternly. 

"But Peter," came in a little whine. 

"Andrew, I'm not going around Haven and up into the hills wearing something like that! Besides, what's the point, other than being uncomfortable and looking bleeding silly?!" He told himself later, {'that was my mistake; if I'd just've stuck with the simple but firm NO, 'e'd 'av backed down, I think, but, no, I've got to try and reason with 'im!'} 

"Well, it's mostly that it means that you let me choose, and I get to think about that all day. Which is really neat! And it reminds you to think about that all day, too, which I like thinking about too. So, a lot of it is just the thinking."

Andrew's brown eyes turned puppy-doggish, and his lower lip pushed out just a little bit. Peter steeled his soul, for that was exactly the look that let Andrew get away with so much. That look he seemed to have no resistance to. That look . . .

"Oh, bleeding 'ell, Andrew, alright! I'll wear the bloody thing!" 

Andrew grinned, like he'd been given the world, and with a sigh, wondering how he let Andrew talk him into these things, Peter dropped his trousers and underpants to let Andrew fit the really strange harness to him, drawing the straps snug, but not tight. There were still a few straps and chains hanging loose and he was just about to ask Andrew about those, when Andrew got that look again. 

"Andrew?!" With a smirk, Andrew reached back in the box and from under a flap on the side, pulled out a heavy silver piece; Peter's eyes got bigger and bigger, "Andrew!!" 

"Just lean over, Peter, this won't take a minute."

Standing there, fuming, after Andrew finally finished with all the bits and bobs, cinched up right and tight, that little lock hooked in place, "And you think I'm going ta be able to get me work done dealing with this lot today? Just how long am I supposed to be wearing this?" 

"Well, until I can't stand it anymore," he got in reply, with Andrew giving him that silly grin again. 

"Till YOU can't stand it anymore, is it? What about when I can't stand it anymore?" 

"Now, Peter, I'm sure you'll do just fine once you get used to it. See, the book says that that silver piece, it's just right to sometimes hit that little sensitive place inside, you know, but not all the time. So, today, you get to make all kinds of decisions." 

He noticed that Peter didn't seem all that enthused about being given this wonderful decision making opportunity. "See, once you figure out what movements cause you to hit that spot, you get to decide whether it's better to have that happen, when you can't do anything about it, cause that holster piece is lined with silver mesh so you can't feel anything through it or have a way to remove it, because of the lock, which is a combination lock and with where it's located even you can't open it, and the straps all lined with the silver mesh too." 

He paused to take a breath, "or whether it's better to try to avoid hitting that spot. But you won't be able to avoid it all the time, especially with all you've got planned for today, all that bending and stretching and up on ladders and riding and walking," he said gleefully. "Then, you get to decide whether you'd do better walking that long path up to the orchard, leading the pony and cart, or riding in the cart, though that's awful bouncy you know especially on that side path, or riding one of the horses and leading the cart. Of course, for the high fields and Reverend Miles, you'd have to use the horse, I guess." 

Peter held up a hand, "We can just write old Reverend Miles off the list for today, Andrew. No bleedin' way I'm gonna visit a parson wearing anything like this." 

"Peter, he'll never know." 

And Peter almost lost it, "That ain't the bleedin' point, Andrew!" 

"And what do I do when I need to take a piss, might I ask?!" the tone a bit sarcastic, well, maybe more than a bit. 

"Oh, there's nothing to stop you," he was assured, "the end's open enough for that, but not for anything to reach inside, if you know what I mean," with a little chuckle. Peter just gave him a very dirty look, which Andrew didn't think was really fair; he'd just been explaining. "So it's okay if you have that second cup of coffee you've been thinking about," pouring him a cup as he spoke. "Well, you don't have to snarl at me, you know. I was just being helpful!"

Andrew was standing back looking at Peter with great satisfaction, Peter standing there glumly, getting ready to pull his underpants and trousers back into place when Caeide dashed through the back door. 

"Sorry, guys, that took longer than I . . ." She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open momentarily, before she caught herself. 

She'd noted the date on the calendar earlier, and as usual, sort of braced herself for whatever wild start Andrew might come up with; she had always made it a point not to react in anything other than a calm and measured way, whatever it was; Peter's reactions usually provided more than enough comedy and drama for the day. 

Giving herself a little shake, she asked, in a voice only slightly higher pitched than usual, "any coffee left?" and sat the basket of eggs on the counter very carefully, thinking how close she'd been to dropping them a minute ago, and there would have gone the omelettes she'd had in mind for lunch, never mind tomorrow's breakfast. 

Peter harumphed at her, "And that's all you've got to say?!" 

She gulped a time or two, then, "you're right, I've forgotten my manners. Let's start over. My, you're looking very nice this morning, Peter; is that a new outfit?" at which point she collapsed in one of the chairs, laughing hysterically, hugging herself, laying her head on the table in front of her. Well, there went her calm and measured reaction. 

Andrew grinned companionably at her, "Neat, isn't it, Caeide? And come here, you've got to see this part!" and in spite of Peter's indignant protests, showed her the silver piece, now firmly in place and hooked securely to the harness, at which she made a funny little gulp, and looked at Peter's stony face and narrowed eyes, and had to turn her head away again to get control of the hysteria trying to bubble out. 

She wondered again just how Andrew managed to talk Peter, yes and her too, into some of the things he came up with, all with that innocent look in his eyes. Then Andrew had to show her the diagrams in the little book, and point out all the features, first on the diagram, then the corresponding feature on what Peter was wearing. 

His crisp question, "Andrew, alright if I pull up me flippin' pants now?!" got only an absent minded, "Oh, not yet, Peter," to which Peter gave an exasperated sigh. 

"I found it when I turned the Trinket Cabinet around!" 

She looked up at him, wiping the tears from her eyes, "there's a back side to the cabinet?" 

Peter gave her a look, "And I suppose you didn't know about that, or that little instruction book or all those other exciting toys tucked away in there?! You didn't sort of point 'im in that direction?" 

"Actually, no. I was shown the Cabinet when I moved here, and had the alcove cut for it to keep it from taking up so much space, but haven't had too much reason to go rummaging through it. I was working Haven by myself, mostly, and barely had the energy to pour myself into bed at night, certainly none to spare for, well, entertainment?? In fact, I think Andrew's more familiar with it than anyone in the family's been in years." She looked at Andrew, her eyes getting huge, "There's MORE?!" 

He grinned conspiratorily, "Yes, and some things for girls, too, according to the book." 

Peter had the somewhat dubious satisfaction of seeing an air of apprehension settle across her face. "'Ey, Andrew, I've been thinking, and it don't seem fair I get two whole days of 'surprises' to meself every month, and us leaving Caeide out of the fun. What say you choose a couple of days during the month that could be 'er special days as well?" 

The long look he got from Caeide promised retribution, probably sooner rather than later; she quite frankly thought she already had enough 'special days' during the month as it was. He gave a deep internal chuckle; he'd found that retribution from the redhead could be quite exciting, if sometimes rather loud and occasionally somewhat painful, but usually stimulating in one way or the other. He rather looked forward to it, actually, and frequently provoked her on purpose. 

He smirked, {"if I have to deal with his little fits and starts, it's only fair that she does too!"}

 

***Somehow, I Just Wasn't Expecting Things To Go In This Direction!***  


Peter had finally gotten Andrew's absent minded approval, and got himself all tucked back together, pants fastened, and very carefully lowered himself back onto his chair, while Caeide poured the three of them a cup of coffee. He was very conscious of the pair of them watching him, as he shifted to find the best position, then inhaled sharply as he found that position, and his eyes flared open and his breathing hastened. 

Andrew looked thoughtful, and his breathing hastened just a bit too. He got up from his seat and walked over to Peter, leaned down, tipped his head back and kissed him, gently and slowly at first, then deeper. 

Peter couldn't help responding; Andrew's kisses always had that effect, and the new toy just intensified the effect, and he found himself squirming on the chair, uttering a deep groan. Caeide was drinking her coffee, but watching them over the rim of her cup. She was aware of just a fillip of excitement herself, watching them; but they usually had that effect on her, these two. 

Peter let out a small groan, as he realized he was getting hard, expanding into the holster, but that it gave him no purchase to move against the sides and get any relief. "Andrew, maybe we could try this another day?" 

Andrew didn't say anything, just backed away and smiled at him and shook his head. Continuing with his coffee, he had a tiny grin on his face as he watched Peter, now squirming a bit. He got a speculative look on his face when he noticed Caeide was breathing a bit faster, and was slightly pink in the face; looking down, he saw that her blouse was pulled tight enough to know that their little show had had an effect on her too. He grinned bigger, 

{"Boy, this is really gonna be fun. Peter is gonna make me pay for this day, big time! I can't wait!"}

Andrew reached for the basket on the table, broke the end off of a scone and nibbled it, then moved the basket and cups off the table. Caeide gave him a questioning look; she hadn't been quite finished with her coffee, after all, and she knew Peter hadn't either. She stopped thinking about the coffee, when he walked over and picking her up by the waist, sat her on the table. 

"Andrew, what on earth," she started, accompanied by, "Andrew, what bee 've you got in your bonnet now?" both voices coming to an abrupt halt as he reached out and unbuttoned her blouse, pulling the ends loose and tucking them into her long skirt at the back of the waist band, exposing her full breasts, now crinkled on the tips. He tilted his head to one side, then the other, before he sat himself in the chair adjacent to Peter's and push himself up to the table, and proceed to taste and touch and feel to his heart's content. It wasn't long before the sounds coming from Caeide showed her pleasure as well, while from Peter, just strange little noises deep in his throat and the creaking of his chair as he shifted uncomfortably, trying unsuccessfully to get some profitable contact inside that blasted harness. 

Their protest of "Andrew!" came at pretty much the same time, in reaction to his tossing her skirts up to the top of her thighs, laying her back across the table, continuing the tasting and touching and feeling. 

At any other time, Peter would have probably taken advantage of all that bounty laying there in front of him, just waiting for his hands and mouth, but today it just seemed one more torment. {"Bloody 'ell! Should 'ave looked at that little book more closely; surely there's some way to get meself off!"} He didn't think just watching and thinking would do the trick, but it looked like he was going to find out for sure, since there didn't seem to be any other, and Andrew was giving him quite a show. He wondered glumly if it was possible for a body to just explode.

Caeide was making those little noises she made and wriggling on the table top, breathing more heavily, when Andrew pulled back. 

"I think I need more coffee," he said, and turned to pour him another cup. He probably should have dropped dead on the floor from the looks he got from both his partners; with his back turned to them, they couldn't see the grin of absolute glee on his mischievious face. 

"Oh, I forgot, I'll be right back, don't move now," and he dashed from the room and they heard him on the stairs. They looked at each other in sheer dismay and disbelief, and an amazing degree of hot frustration, and then he was back. Shaking his head in disapproval, he looked at Caeide who had pushed herself down from the table, brushed her skirts down and refastened her blouse, and now sat firmly in her chair again. 

"Stand up, Caeide," he ordered cheerfully, and tucking her skirts all the way up, fastened the female equivalent of Peter's outfit to her. The perforated silver metal shield was no problem, but the internal wings got a surprisingly high yelp from her, and a highly speculative look from both men. 

"I thought it would be fun if one of the special days overlapped, both you and Peter together, so we'll just make it the third Friday, and we'll start today." 

He patted her on her bared cheeks, "you don't get a silver piece, at least not today, there are some ivory pieces meant for girls, but they're a bit different, we'll give those a try sometime," he leered at her. Then, to their total shock, he sat her back on the table and started playing at her breasts again, till he finally moved back to lean against the counter, undid his trousers and proceeded to very slowly, very lovingly, very, very consciously pleasured himself while they sat there and whimpered and cursed under their breath at him. 

Caeide reached down to confirm that, yes, the chastity belt did indeed block her every effort, something Peter had already discovered on his own model. Those wings inside even kept her from clinching herself to get a little relief. 

Andrew was somehow keeping up a light running commentary, "You know, I've always wondered about when you have one of those dreams, you know? I mean, when you wake up and you've, well, you know". 

Peter shook his head in disbelief, {"he can think up things like this, put us in misery, and plan to leave us there, but he can't say wet dream or come; he is just bloody amazin', 'e is!"} 

"I mean, does it happen just because of what you were dreaming, or is it because you were dreaming and rubbing up against the covers because of what you were dreaming, if you know what I mean. What I was thinking is, now you can figure that out, what with not being able to touch, do the feelings just go away, or do you actually get to, well, you know, without any touching?" 

Caeide was finding the comments somewhat amusing, as she often found Andrew's mental and verbal twists and turns, though she'd have been much more amused if she wasn't drawn tight as a new bustle. {"Damn, surely there's some way!"} as she squirmed. 

Alas for both of them, ingenious minds had thought up their particular devices and had gone out of their way to make them tamper proof. Andrew finally gave a final gasp and let his handkerchief catch the overflow. "Wow," he sighed happily, "that really felt good!" 

He grinned at both of them, "Well, come on, you two, we've got work to do; can't sit around the kitchen making small talk all day, you know," and with an arch grin sauntered out the kitchen door.

"I may have to kill 'im," Peter growled. 

Caeide silently agreed, but then reminded him, "but not before he unhooks these contraptions." 

Peter's eyes widened at the thought, "Yes, not before then, of course," shuddering at the thought of having to have someone else figure out a way to get them free! Even if he could have handled having to ask them, Maude and Marisol weren't due back for another two days! 

Yes, they both knew they could figure out a way to get each other free, could even take the metal snips to the connections themselves, but, that wasn't playing the game fair. 

***All In A Good Cause***  


Peter had made it through the morning, and his earlier erection had faded, on its own; not the most comfortable or pleasurable way to make it go away, but at least he was able to move a little better now. Every now and then he forgot and moved in such a way as to give him that feeling, and he tried to remember not to do that again. 

Still, by lunchtime, he was sporting again, and was really hoping Andrew had had enough of the game and was ready to unlock him. He got back to the house to find Caeide in the kitchen, tossing things around. She turned to him as he came in the door, "if you were thinking of convincing him it's been long enough, I don't think you've much of a chance." She was pink in the face and her breath was coming just a bit fast; Peter could see her blouse was buttoned wrong, and there was a bead of sweat at the hollow of her throat. 

"He didn't?!" 

"Oh, yes, a repeat of this morning, well as best as possible with this contraption on, plus a few added touches," she blushed. He looked at her, and licked his lips, walked over to her and pulled her skirts up high. 

"Peter, please, I don't think I can take any more right now," she warned him, but he got a smile on his face uncomfortably like the one she'd just seen on Andrew's. He tucked her skirts up into her waistband and lowered himself to the floor, sideways to her, stroking up the inside of her thighs, which were a bit sticky; he touched the silver mesh covering her, and it was drippy wet. 

"My, my, he must 'ave done a good job," he crooned at her, "let's see what I can add to that, shall we," and he ran his lips up her thighs, around the device, then turning her around, spreading her legs farther apart, ran his tongue to the back of the device, up her crevice, and spreading her cheeks, touched his tongue to her, rimming her, then just dipping his tongue in, rhymically. She was whimpering, moaning and cursing all at the same time. 

She looked over and there was that Andrew, leaning against the wall, smirking at them, not saying a word. Reaching down, he took out his cock and stroked it gently. "That's enough, Peter. You've taken her far enough for now. Caeide, sit back down in your chair. Peter, come here." Peter stumbled to his feet, shocked to see Andrew there. He looked at Andrew, and groaned, and walked over to Andrew. He reached out a hand, and Andrew moved to push his hand away, smiling, "No". Peter licked his lips, looked down and then back up at Andrew, starting to bend down, but Andrew again said, "No" and Peter groaned, "then what do you want, Andrew?!" 

Andrew gently moved Peter back to the table and reached down to release the fastenings on Peter's trousers, dropping them to the floor. With a frustrated moan, Peter was bent over the table, that silver piece unfastened, and Andrew showed him quite clearly what he had in mind. Andrew made sure to withdraw before Peter could come, and finished himself by hand, leaving Peter, once again, with a raging hard-on, and nothing to do about it. Oh, and the silver piece was firmly in place, once again. 

"Caeide, don't you have lunch fixed yet, we've all the afternoon's work to go yet. Peter, we'd best go get washed up; we're wasting time," he chirped cheerfully. 

Andrew kept up a running chatter through lunch, not seeming to notice the silence from the other two at the table, though he was getting plenty of looks, if not words. They parted company afterwards, each for their appointed chores. 

Peter found the trip to the high fields on horseback, with a full erection and that blasted silver piece, a highly memorable experience, one he thought balefully he just might let Andrew enjoy some time or other. Mounting and dismounting alone was a task that took some thought and determination, and each time added a pulse to his already throbbing member, and since he had to actually dig in the soil of each of the several fields to confirm their proper state, it was an experience he repeated more than he'd have liked. He found he'd forgotten just how many different fields there were in the high ground! 

Caeide had it easier, working with the big stock and wearing only the basic metal mesh and wings device and none of the extra 'ivory pieces' Andrew had crowed about, but the time on her knees in the garden doing the weeding in the greens bed, which required close-up attention, had her moaning and moving in a way that would have raised eyebrows should anyone have come near; seemingly those wings were particularly evident to the wearer in that position. 

The fact that Andrew had found her in that position and taken full advantage just added to it, and that when she was whimpering and moaning, being brought almost, but never quite to release, she looked to the side, and there was Peter, still mounted on the big chestnut mare, watching them, hunched forward, looking all the world as if he was about to explode. The mare just looked embarrassed. 

Tea time was much the same, Andrew teased Caeide til she was squirming and Peter was too, just with the watching. Then, he started teasing Peter, kissing him, stroking him everywhere available to be stroked, but making no signs of removing the harness. Peter was tensed for a repeat of his earlier experience, but that didn't happen; instead Andrew had Caeide and Peter together use their tongues and mouths to bring him to completion, stroking their heads, complimenting them all the while. 

If they had thought that would sway him, though, they were mistaken, for afterwards, he cleaned himself off at the sink, fastened himself up and said a jolly, "Well, let's get back to it! See everyone at dinner. Oh, by the way, Caeide, what're we having?", only laughing when she snarled, "roasted venison," making reference to his Indian name of Little Deer Who Goes Swift And Sure Through Forest. 

"Roasted venison," Peter asked in a strained voice, "why not stewed?!"

Dinner had come and gone, and no mention by any of the three of the Trinket Cabinet or its contents. As bedtime approached, the two were getting frantic; they didn't think they could hold out through the night. 

Andrew left them in the library, where they had been playing at cards, and came back with the keys and two towels. He motioned them to stand, and with a sweet smile, unfastened each of them, placing each of their devices in a towel, wrapping it and setting it aside. 

He smiled his own sweet Andrew smile. "Thank you, guys. That was great!" 

Peter frowned, "Then that's it?! You're finished with it?" 

"Well, Peter, usually we start in the late afternoon and end in the morning, so that's about fourteen hours, and we started at about 6:30 this morning, so it's been about that, so, yes, my time's up," with a happy glow on his face. 

Peter, who'd been ready to pummel his friend well and good when he was free again, looked at him helplessly, and then looked over at Caeide, who had the same expression on her face. 

"You two better get washed up and ready for bed; it's been a busy day, and tomorrow looks to be even busier, especially with the ladies gone. And, guys, I mean it, you've been really great!" He smiled again and left, closing the door gently behind him. 

Peter looked at Caeide and she looked back, "Just 'ow does 'e do that, get us from bleedin' angry to soft as mush?!" 

"I don't know, but he always seems to manage it, doesn't he."

As Peter turned to go to his own quarters, to follow Andrew's suggestion and get cleaned up, Caeide whispered behind him, "Peter, any chance you'll come visiting later, maybe, please??" 

"Oh, you can count on it, lass, you can count on it!" And they went their separate ways, at least for a short period of time.

Later, Andrew lay in his own bed, hearing the sounds coming from Caeide's room, and laughed to himself. Those two hadn't been spending very much private time together, not since he'd arrived. He thought it'd started because Caeide was being so careful to leave Peter and Andrew enough time together to get used to being together, and because Peter was so caught up in being with Andrew after all this time. And Andrew was so engrossed in Peter, and Haven, and everything, he'd just not noticed. 

He thought now they'd become just a bit shy with each other, neither wanting to make the first move, a little afraid of being turned away, which was silly. Or maybe neither one wanted Andrew to feel neglected, which he knew was even more silly, but it did show how much they both cared about him, which made him feel all warm inside. 

He was glad his plan had worked, though from the sounds of it, he wasn't sure how much work either of them would get done tomorrow. He was tired too; this had taken a lot more effort on his part than he'd thought it would. Maybe next time, he'd try a candlelight dinner with flowers, just for the two of them. 

He grinned to himself, remembering another candlelight dinner, back in the camp, and gave a tiny chuckle. He heaved a happy sigh, rolled over and went to sleep.


End file.
